


Exhaustion

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Comfort Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-11
Updated: 2010-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 04:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Stay," he mutters.  "Gonna have nightmares about that damn thing.  Just... stay?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exhaustion

**Author's Note:**

> ladycat777 asked for comfort!sex, and then when I had problems getting started, she wrote the beginning of this for me.

Rodney doesn't open his door and walk through so much as fall.

"Whoa, there." John grabs him before he can face-plant but it's a near thing. "You need a bed to do that in."

"Hmm?" Rodney's not tracking any longer, hanging in what has to be an uncomfortable angle from John's arms. "Oh. Right. Okay." His feet move. The rest of him doesn't. "Colonel?"

John reels him back slowly, not caring that anyone could see as he takes Rodney's weight and gets him recentered on his feet. If anyone has anything to say after what Rodney just did, he's not going to bother with reprimands or any of the formal, structured punishments the military has so helpfully provided. He's going to beat the hypothetical shit's face in.

"Easy, McKay," he says, shifting so that Rodney's head falls back against his shoulder. He knows the other man isn't tracking anything visual anymore, red, gritty eyes unfocused and moving like a blind man's would: in useless, involuntary reaction. Rodney still hears pretty well, though, and seems to respond to that better than touch. "We're just gonna go inside your quarters, right, buddy? Let me do the work."

Rodney is heavier than normal, exhaustion leadening his muscles, mind too fragmented to control his almost-flailing limbs. "Kay," he slurs and almost falls when John moves them forward.

Two arms wrapped around the middle are never going to work. John knows that but it still takes him a moment to disengage, getting Rodney's arm over his shoulder so John can half-drag him wherever he wants.

It's... nice, feeling Rodney this way. It's a little creepy and John doesn't like what it says about him but it's still... nice. Solid.

He leads Rodney to his bed, and lowers him gently to the surface, watching as Rodney drops into an exhausted sleep almost immediately. He knows he should leave, but there's a part of him that is reluctant. He ignores that thought, instead focusing on trying to make Rodney comfortable - he's earned a good night's sleep, and if John were to just leave now, Rodney would wake up twisted up and uncomfortable.

Ignoring the way that his stomach twists, he reaches out and unties Rodney's shoes, sliding them off, and then turns his attention to Rodney's pants. Rodney wakes up a little as he starts to tug them down, but not enough to fight him. "S'pard?" he slurs.

"Shh, Rodney. Just me. Gonna get you comfortable." It's hard to slide his pants off without looking, but John is doing his damnedest. It would be unfair to check Rodney out now. Besides, he knows what he'd see - he's looked often enough in the past.

He promises himself that as soon as Rodney's pants are off, he'll leave, but as he sets them down, Rodney sits up. "Rodney, buddy, what are you doing?"

"Can't sleep. Need to be running diagnostics," he says, but his eyes are barely open, just the barest slits.

John eases him back down. "Zelenka's running them, Rodney. You need to be sleeping, buddy." Rodney grabs hold of his hand, tugging as he lies back.

"Okay," he mumbles, but doesn't let go. John doesn't want to think how good it feels.

"Rodney, you need to let go of my hand," he whispers, but Rodney shakes his head.

"Stay," he mutters. "Gonna have nightmares about that damn thing. Just... stay?"

John closes his eyes. Rodney has no idea what he's asking for, but he can't bring himself to say no. Instead, he unties his boots and kicks them off. Leaving the rest of his clothes on, he sits on the edge of Rodney's bed and folds his hands in his lap. "Okay, Rodney. I'm here. Now sleep, alright?"

It's a battle, but Rodney manages to get his eyes open. "Are you simple? Lie down with me - there's room."

There _is_ room, but John is reluctant. Rodney's glaring at him, though, and he finally gives up and lies down stiffly on the opposite side of the bed. Rodney snorts, and then he closes his eyes.

John is afraid to close his eyes. All he can see is Rodney tangling with the energy creature, over and over again. Only this time, in his dreams, he didn't get there in time.

Eventually, though, Rodney's steady breaths calm him, and even though he thought that he'd get back up and leave once Rodney's asleep, he finds he can't. Instead, he closes his eyes and sleeps as well.

He wakes up when Rodney starts to flail in the middle of the night. "Get it off! Get it off!" His arms are flailing enough that he knocks John out of bed. He sits on the floor in shock for a second before lunging up on to the bed, trying to get his hands on Rodney so he knows he's not alone.

"Rodney! Rodney, it's Sheppard. You're okay, buddy, you're okay." He finally gets one hand on Rodney's face, and the other on his chest, pressing him lightly back into the bed.

"Sheppard?" Rodney's voice is rusty and confused. "Is that really you?"

"It's really me, buddy. Think you could go back to sleep?" But Rodney's eyes are open, John can see in the moonlight. The shadows under his eyes look like bruises, and his eyes are practically black. Rodney tugs on his arm, pulling John on top of him.

John doesn't want to risk hurting him, so he goes without too much of a struggle, figuring that Rodney is just pulling him back in the bed. And hey, after that nightmare, he'd probably want a little human contact as well. The excuses fly thick and fast in his head until Rodney pulls him in for a kiss.

He doesn't react - _can't_ react - for long seconds. Long enough that Rodney lets go of him, and closes his eyes. He looks like he's preparing to get hit. Little does he know that the chances of that are somewhere between slim and none. But it could just be fatigue and fear acting for Rodney, so John rolls to one side and stares at the ceiling. "Rodney?"

"Mmm?" Rodney sounds so innocent, as if he has no idea what he just did to John.

"Why did you kiss me?"

He can almost hear that big brain of Rodney's spinning, trying to come up with a plausible reason that won't make John mad. He can also hear it when Rodney gives up and shrugs, apparently deciding to go with honesty. "Because I wanted to?"

John rolls on his side, propping his head up on one hand and staring at him. "Rodney?"

Rodney turns his head, just enough that John can see his eyes, and they're _so_ exhausted and haunted that he has to make that look go away, so he leans in and kisses Rodney back. This time it's Rodney who freezes before he opens his mouth for John to slide his tongue inside.

John gets to enjoy the kiss for all of thirty seconds before Rodney starts actually _kissing_ him, and then it's just like he'd always known it would be like with Rodney, pushy and hot and nasty and just _good_.

All of his excuses go flying out of the window, and he can't deny himself this any longer. He rolls the two of them till he's lying propped up on Rodney's chest, still kissing. When Rodney breaks the kiss and turns his head to the side, John chases after it with single-minded determination. Then Rodney says "No," and John instantly pulls back.

He's trying to find some way to apologize, to back down, when Rodney looks at him with huge eyes, "Oh, god, not you. Don't want you to stop, but if we don't, I'm going to come in my shorts."

And now John can feel it, the pressure and heat of Rodney's cock pressing against his, separated by only a few layers of cloth. The idea that kissing has brought Rodney that close turns John on even more than he already is, but Rodney doesn't want to do that, so John drops his head and kisses his neck and asks, "What do you want?"

Under him, Rodney shifts his legs, spreading them wide. "Fuck me?"

John has to fumble for his dick, grabbing it through his pants, because otherwise _he's_ going to be the one going off in his underwear. Just the idea... it's been at least three years since he's gotten laid, and he hasn't been with a guy in at least ten, but there are some things you don't forget, and the feel of sliding into someone's ass is one of them. For it to be an ass as perfect as Rodney's just makes him groan.

Rodney laughs, but there's very little humor in the sound. John kneels up, seeing how utterly debauched Rodney looks, and they've barely started. He shrugs out of his t-shirt, and then stands up to slide out of his BDU pants, leaving his boxers on, because he doesn't want to push Rodney too fast.

Rodney doesn't have that particular issue, apparently, because when John turns back to the bed, Rodney has slid his boxers off, and is lying there, naked as the day he was born.

His cock, which John has to admit he's looked at a lot when they've been showering and such, is hard. And wow, Rodney is _hung_, long and thick, more than a handful, that's for sure. His mouth waters, and without thinking, he dips down to give it a kiss, right on the head.

Rodney moans, lifting his hips into the caress. Without lifting his head away, John smiles and gives it a quick lick, tasting salt and skin. He wants nothing more than to take Rodney's cock in his mouth, to suck him until he's gasping, but when he opens his mouth to do it, Rodney pushes him away with a hand to his forehead. "Rodney..." he says, trying to think of a way to persuade him to let him do what he wants, but Rodney just shakes his head and settles himself better, legs spread wide.

"Please. Sheppard - want you inside of me," Rodney says. "I'm too close."

John has never been able to deny Rodney. and this time is no different. Sliding off his boxers, he starts to move between Rodney's spread thighs, kneeling there. Rodney reaches out one hand towards him, as if he's afraid to touch. When it finally reaches him, hot on his chest, John can't help the whine. He needs to be touching Rodney, right now. "Do you have any stuff?"

Rodney has to think for a moment. "Stuff?" Finally, he gets it. "Oh, you mean lube?" He twists to reach for the nightstand, and god, John has to grab at his cock again, because who knew that Rodney was this flexible? When Rodney turns back, a bottle in his hands, he takes it gratefully. Pouring a small amount over his fingers, he slicks them up good, then lowers his hand to the space behind Rodney's balls.

Touching his perineum, he strokes it firmly, watching as Rodney's eyes flutter shut, lashes dark against his fair skin. Rodney plants one foot firmly on the bed and flexes his hips, making the shadowed space between his cheeks come into view. "Please don't tease me, I can't handle it right now," he says. John has no choice but to slide his fingers further back, finding the entrance to Rodney's body.

He slides one finger in, and oh, sweet Jesus, Rodney is so _hot_ and _tight_ inside. "Has it been long for you?" John gasps out, trying to gage how careful he needs to be. Rodney nods, his teeth planted firmly in his lip as he presses back into John's hand. He doesn't say anything, though, and John doesn't force the issue, instead focused on slowly and steadily stretching Rodney open.

Only when that finger is moving easily does he add another, making both of them groan in unison. He wants nothing more than to shove his way inside, but he won't do anything that might hurt Rodney. He stares at where his fingers disappear inside, so he misses any warning Rodney might have telegraphed when he plants his other foot and twists away from John's touch.

John's eyes shoot to Rodney's face. "Rodney?"

What little John can see makes Rodney look determined. "Want you inside, now," Rodney says.

While John would like nothing better, he can't help saying, "I'm going to hurt you." Rodney shakes his head sharply and then he's moving, turning over on his front and coming up on his knees while John kneels there, stupefied.

"I can take it. Now, get inside me." John recognizes that tone of voice - that's Rodney's "If you don't do exactly as I tell you, then you're even stupider than you look" voice, and so John slicks up his cock, making sure to use lots of lube. Pressing his cock against the tight hole, he closes his eyes and pushes, just slightly.

Rodney groans as the head of John's dick pops through, and John freezes. He has no idea how he's managing to hold still, but somehow he does. Rodney comes up on his hands, and says, "No more stopping." Before John can react, he's pushing back, taking more of John's cock, and John can't hold back the moan. Fuck, it feels so good inside Rodney.

Rodney doesn't stop until he's pressed back against John's hips, then he goes back down, shoulders to the bed. "Now, fuck me."

John is so close, just from being inside that warm wet space after so long, but he wants to make it good for Rodney. It's the least he deserves after saving their asses yet again. Taking Rodney's hips in his hands, he rocks his hips slightly, feeling Rodney give around him. Rodney hisses, and John jumps, moving a little faster, a little deeper. He pulls out, and adds more lube, then slides back in, as fast as Rodney's body will allow.

Everything is so slick that it's practically frictionless, and John bites his lip, trying to keep the moan behind his teeth. Rodney shifts under him, and then again, and then John apparently is at the perfect angle because Rodney cries out on his next stroke. "Oh, oh, oh..."

John struggles to keep it even, keep it smooth as he presses against that spot over and over again. One of Rodney's hand slides underneath, and then his shoulder starts shaking. The idea that Rodney is jerking himself, and going to come, presses John closer to the edge. "Gonna come for me, Rodney?" he says.

Rodney doesn't answer; instead, his arm starts to move faster. He's moaning steadily now, and with each sound, John loses a little bit more of his control. He's slamming into Rodney, hard and fast and deep, only the thought that Rodney has to come first holding him back from his own orgasm. Finally, Rodney groans out something that might be John's name, as his channel clenches hard and fast around John's dick.

It breaks John, and he's flying, coming apart in the air, not caring where he's going to land. He stops moving, body frozen for a long moment, then has to fight to keep from collapsing forward onto Rodney's back.

This time, when Rodney hisses, it's clearly from discomfort, and John carefully pulls out. He hesitates, but Rodney is already turning over underneath him and holding out one arm. John collapses down, burying his face in Rodney's shoulder, relieved that he doesn't have to say anything. They stay like that as both of them catch their breath, then John realizes that Rodney is actually talking softly.

"Thank you," he whispers. "That was just what I needed."

John can't help the smile and he sits up a little so that he can see Rodney's face. "It was good?"

Rodney's got his "Well, duh," face on, and he says, "Oh for god's sake. You need reassurance that it was the moon and the stars and..."

John shuts him up the only way he can - with a kiss. Rodney kisses back happily, and it's good, but there's one thing that would make it great, so he pulls back and says, "So, how about you call me John?"

And Rodney's eyes light up. He says "John," as if he'd never expected to be able to say it, and John collapses back into his arms. It doesn't take long for them to go back to sleep.


End file.
